wake up in his arms
by Dark Flamingo
Summary: And curled up [in his master’s arms] close to QuiGon, ObiWon felt safe, a tangible safety that was different from the connection they had through the Force.


It was sometime before the rays of whatever amount of suns could pierce through the thick walls of trees, and the ground was hard with a numbing frost. It had been only the day before that Obi-Won had been sleeping in his comfortable bed back on Coruscant, but if it weren't for the root digging into his side he would've been completely satisfied with the soon-to-be morning as it was just then. 

The two of them, padawon and master, were off on a mission to a planet that Obi-Won couldn't remember the name of at the moment, and as happened every once and a while, (not enough to be called 'occasional', but not infrequent enough to be called 'rare') the planet's overly lush forest meant that they would be unable to land their ship near the city they were heading for, and since they were to be inconspicuous the idea of landing right inside the city walls wasn't the smartest thing to do.

So Qui-Gon and Obi-Won packed up some supplies and headed on a two day journey through the forest until they could slip into the city, and the days were warm enough, but once the suns were replaced by some moon or another the temperature took a suicidal drop and warmth came only from the fire and each other in a shared bedroll.

And curled up (not in his master's arms, for that implies something completely different) close to Qui-Gon, lacing and unlacing his fingers in the front of the man's robe idly, his eyelids drooping and his consciousness sliding in and out of sleep, Obi-Won felt safe, a tangible safety that was different from the connection they had through the Force, a feeling of tranquility that probably had something to do with the light fog of the almost-morning or the cool air hanging around his head.

The padawon smiles in a embarrassed way, wondering what his master would think could he hear his thoughts, of his childish fear of separation quelled just by sleeping close, a thought that tugged his gut guiltily, though he didn't know why.

And Obi-Won slips into a tumbling sleep with a light sigh, his fingers relaxing and relinquishing their hold on the other's robe front. And a few moments later a tiny spear of sunlight scrapes across the small clearing and wakes the Jedi.

--

It's cold, barely even dawn when Obi-Won quietly rolls out of bed and moves on muffled feet towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Qui-Gon sits up, blinking once to expel the faint haze of sleep. Obi-Won relaxes, he will always wonder how his master can remain unruffled even after sleeping for hours on end, the padawon's own short hair is in it's own state of disorder, and his braid has unraveled.

"I can't sleep Master, so I was going to watch the sun rise," Obi-Won replied respectively, the Jedi slips out of his own bed and smiles at his pupil kindly.

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

The sunrises are always more beautiful than the sunrises (or sunsets for that matter) on most other planets, than the ones Obi-Won had grown up with on Coruscant, where the eternal fluorescing lights betrayed nearly all change in natural light. Where the roadless streets of headlights and stars cut the city into blocks, the only difference between night and day was that in the day the city thrived with merchants, at night it teemed with thieves and smugglers.

"It's cold."

"Urkupp usually is at night."

There was a silence then, save for the various sounds of small animals waking, and the two leaned calmly on the railing, watching the bright orange sun sprout from behind a dense ceiling of trees.

"Master?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you do if your mind told you to do something, and the Jedi way told you to do another?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a rhetorical theory, Master. I was just wondering."

There was another pause, Obi-Won watching his master attentively out of the corner of his eye, while the Jedi folded his arms and watched the bright spot on the horizon thoughtfully.

"I don't know."

Obi-Won was slightly taken aback, he had expected an answer of some kind, and Qui-Gon's simple statement had surprised him.

"You're alarmed?"

"Just a little," Obi-Won shook his head and turned back to the gradual sunrise.

"What would you do?" Qui-Gon asked curiously, Obi-Won glanced at him, and met the elder's gaze momentarily before looking back towards the suns.

"I don't know Master. I'd probably—" Here he hesitated and sighed in defeat, "I don't know,"

Qui-Gon clapped the padawon on the shoulder, "I'm sure you'll do the right thing,"

"I-I said it was a rhetorical theory-!" Obi-Won protested immediately, towards his master's back as the Jedi moved for the door back into their inn room.

"Come, let's get some more sleep, my padawon." Qui-Gon said lightly, disappearing behind the rounded off steel door.

Obi-Won let his shoulders slump slightly in defeat for a moment, a faint warmth coming to his cheeks, before following the Jedi with a quiet, "Yes Master."

--

They had been back on Coruscant for three days, and still Obi-Won couldn't sleep, or at least couldn't fall asleep under five hours, and it was showing. Aside from the bags under his eyes and inability to wake up at his usual early hour his movements were sluggish and his level in training had drooped lower. One night he had taken a strong sleeping pill, but it only made his mornings worse than they had been without.

The padawon sighs quietly and rolls slowly, trying to make as little sound as possible to avoid waking his master, and stretches his leg, trying to find a cool spot on the mattress. It was probably his bed that could be blamed for his troubles with sleeping, he felt smothered in his soft cushioned bed after nights previously spent on the hard cold ground.

The faint noise of the busy city outside the temple is so very hushed he has to strain to hear it, but unlike before the rhythmic hum of traffic does nothing to soothe his wandering mind.

So Obi-Won rolls out of bed and into Qui-Gon's.

Although he wasn't sure if this immediately woke his master, it's obvious that at some point Qui-Gon had woken, for in the morning his master had moved a respectable distance away from the padawon, likely mistakenly thinking that it would uncomfortable for Obi-Won to wake up (in his arms) so close to his master.

And later that morning he apologized a little embarrassed, for slipping into the other's bed, but almost expectedly, Qui-Gon accepted his apology offhandedly, not bothered the slightest, that his seventeen year old padawon couldn't sleep alone.

And the next night Obi-Won crept back into his master's bed, but this time woke at his usual early hour ahead of Qui-Gon and left as if nothing happened, guessing it would be alright as long as he didn't react to it, following his master's lead as well, Obi-Won stayed on the far side of the mattress.

But a few days later, Obi-Won again couldn't sleep, and after little consideration, only hoping his actions wouldn't just bring him embarrassment, he slid again into the bed opposite him and huddled under the covers for warmth after the brief exposure to the cool night air.

They had a mission the next day, Obi-Won reasoned, rolling closer to Qui-Gon, and he would need to be completely awake for it, even if it was such a small thing as a political visit to Naboo.

But the next week he didn't have an excuse. Except for the feel of safety and comfort lying next to Qui-Gon gave him, and it made him feel weird and guilty for obsessing over something so small. He _knew_ he loved Qui-Gon; he was like a father, though he didn't think of him as his father, since he could remember who his father is (a sharp, overly serious man who knew nothing of smiling) or at least who his father had been.

And his love towards Qui-Gon was different in the same way. Which could explain the padawon's habit of getting between attackers and his master.

So Obi-Won slept with Qui-Gon for three nights, and each morning he would wake to find his master on the other side of the bed. And while Obi-Won sat by the window meticulously braiding his hair and Qui-Gon would wake and nod in greeting they never mentioned it, except on the fifth morning.

"If you'd like we could switch beds," Qui-Gon offered, watching his padawon carefully as the boy slipped on his cloak and adjusted it with a shrug of his shoulders. Obi-Won paused then, watching the air contemplatively before replying, his face flushed;

"No, it's fine Master."

That night Qui-Gon didn't roll away in the middle of the night, and when Obi-Won woke he woke in his master's arms and wouldn't have it any other way.

It was small, such a small change, but it promised of somedays, of a few months later when they'd get rid of Obi-Won's bed altogether, the tiniest shift in the Force, undetectable unless searched for, that would eventually mean something slightly bigger.


End file.
